


acclimating

by purple01_prose



Series: bridges [3]
Category: Epic (2013)
Genre: Coming of Age, Cultural Differences, Culture Shock, Drama, Education, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Female Character In Command, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Pagan Festivals, Paganism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple01_prose/pseuds/purple01_prose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MK's first year as queen is hard. It's even harder considering this isn't even her culture. Thankfully, she has Ronin, Nod, and a few devoted attendants to ease the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	acclimating

**Author's Note:**

> As always, devoted to queenmarykatherine, who badgered me about this and helped me kick Ronin's butt in gear, as well as providing some much-needed inspiration.

**July.**

 

It’s been eight days since MK was chosen as Queen. She’s slept through two of them, and has not slept since. This is something that ‘weirds her out.’

 

“At hom—where I come from, if you don’t sleep for several days, you can _die_ ,” she tells Ronin when he asks her why she is so concerned.

 

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

 

“No, seriously, there was an entire episode of _House_ based on it, though that person ended up having black plague, which, whatever, but sleep is one of those things my people need,” she squints up at him, “so why don’t I feel tired?”

 

“That probably has something to do with the fact that our queens typically sleep only through the winter months,” Nim says happily, waving a scroll. Tara’s council met in the citadel, but since there is so much their new queen doesn’t know, all meetings for the first year, at least, are being held at Nim’s tree.

 

“What?”

 

“When the plants go dormant, so do you,” Nim beams, placing that scroll on top of the pile already in MK’s arms. She has homework. “And your attendants. Have you picked them yet?”

 

“I’ve been screening applicants,” Iris, a bluebell Jinn, says imperiously. “We should have a pool from which to choose from soon, perhaps by the end of the week.”

 

“Why do my attendants sleep?”

 

“They take care of you, just as you take care of the forest. There’s a certain...” Nim looks at Iris, “synchronicity? In place. So when the queen sleeps, so do they.”

 

“Do they also feel hungry when I do and pain when I do?” MK asks moodily. She glares at the pile of scrolls. She’s been struggling with learning the language.

 

“No, it doesn’t quite go that far,” Iris says graciously.

 

“Oh goody.”

 

“I think we can save the harvest data until next meeting,” Nim says, peering through another scroll. “I’ll push it off until Friday, will you have the applicants’ list ready by then?”

 

“I will indeed.”

 

“Fantastic!”

 

MK pushes herself away from the desk. “So what am I learning now, the use of adverbs?”

 

“No, complex sentence structure,” Nim says.

 

MK sighs. “Let’s get started, then.”

 

\--

 

Nod’s progressing much more quickly in his training now that he actually has incentive, but he’s still not ready to raise a hummingbird chick yet. Jansen isn’t entirely certain the boy will be ready for that before next spring, and while Jansen’s assessments can be suspect (Nod was _not_ ready to be put out into the field earlier this year, even if his skills were ready; his lack of teamwork should have been a bigger consideration), on this occasion Ronin trusts him.

 

However, Nod’s impulsive nature is not one that is so easy to be curbed.

 

For example:

 

“Where have you been?” Ronin demands, stepping out of the shadows of the mews as Nod leads his sparrow in.

 

Nod almost jumps out of his skin. “Don’t _do_ that,” Nod gasps, clutching his heart.

 

Ronin crosses his arms. “Well?”

 

“Nod? You wanted to talk to me?” MK appears at the door and crosses over the threshold, holding up her skirts delicately.

 

“No, I just wanted to give you this,” the back of Nod’s neck and his ears are bright red, but he’s refusing to look at Ronin as he passes a spring beauty bloom to her.

 

“It’s beautiful,” MK enthuses, taking it and stroking the petals. She looks up. “Oh hi, Ronin. Is Nod in trouble?”

 

Nod is still not looking at his commanding officer. “No, he’s not,” Ronin says. “I’ll see you later, Your Majesty.”

 

“MK, Ronin,” MK protests, “none of this ‘Your Majesty’ stuff. I didn’t grow up in a monarchy.”

 

He bows. “Later, MK.”

 

MK finds him later in the guardroom, looking over the recruitment lists. “Are you okay? You had the weirdest look on your face earlier.”

 

The spring beauty’s in her hair, but there’s a dusting of pollen over her nose that makes him think her pet morning glory had ambushed her for a petting session. “Just...memories.”

 

MK smiles and takes the seat opposite him, pulling out a scroll. “Did you get flowers for Tara too?”

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” he says, his face straight.

 

“Oh my god, you _did_. That’s precious.”

 

“What’s that?” he nods at the scroll, changing the subject.

 

“Practice,” MK says with disgust. “It’s not enough that I’m nearly fluent in French.”

 

“The more you learn, you can read about the exploits of other queens,” he tries to think of exploits that Tara was involved in that were humorous. “Tara saved one of your kind’s life before, and Queen Alys was friends with some of your poets.”

 

“Ooh, who?”

 

He shakes his head. “All of the detail is found in the scrolls.”

 

MK sits back, glowering. “Oh, okay. I’ll _try_ to learn this. Maybe it doesn’t come easy if you’re not born a Jinn,” she mutters.

 

Since it’s said in a mutter, he can ignore it.

 

\--

 

“These are the ones that I have selected,” Iris says coolly, shifting the list of attendant candidates to MK. They’re in their usual positions around the table, MK at the head, Nim on her left side, Ronin at her right, with Iris on Ronin’s other side. Once the harvest starts to come in, Baum (pinecone Jinn) will join them, but he’s in charge of overseeing all of their crops, and he’ll be needed elsewhere until then.

 

MK picks up the list and starts to scan it. Her lips thin. Ronin shifts, eyeing Nim.

 

“That’s very nice, but I need to actually meet them.”

 

Iris fluffs up. “I was attendant to Queen Tara--.”

 

“I understand,” MK says quietly, looking down the table at her. “But if there’s synchronology or whatever, I need to meet them. I have to see what they feel like.”

 

_‘It’s about the **feeling**. I get it from the pods, I get it from the forest...I get it from everyone.’_

 

“Queen Mary Katherine is correct,” Ronin says, turning to Iris. “Queen Tara, on multiple occasions, remarked how necessary the feeling was to making her decision.”

 

He feels, more than sees, MK’s start. While he has not exactly gone against her, he’s been upholding Nim and Iris’ words more often than not.

 

Iris straightens. “Very well. I will arrange for them to meet with you at your earliest convenience.”

 

“No. I will meet with them now.” MK’s already moving her chair away from the table and standing. She brushes down her skirt. “I want to see who they are, not what they choose to appear to be for me.”

 

Iris stares at their queen, and it’s not until Ronin stands up as well, attaching his sheath to his belt that she stands up hurriedly. There’s new respect in her eyes, and she bows. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“Show me,” MK commands, gesturing for Iris to lead.

 

Nim chuckles as he brings up the rear. “Acting like a queen already.”

 

“If you could find the history scrolls of Tara and Alys, that might help her with her studies,” he comments in an undertone as Iris chatters to MK.

 

Nim strokes his chin. “I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, I can do that.”

 

Ronin inclines his head.

 

\--

 

MK settles—no, settles is the wrong word, it implies picking the best choices out of a bad lot— _decides_ on three attendants. All three are good girls from good families (this is what Iris decided on), but that’s not what MK cares about.

 

The three girls are all close to MK’s age or younger. The oldest, Sabine, is a violet Jinn, her colors in yellow and green. The youngest is a marigold Jinn, green and scarlet, and is nicknamed ‘Mari.’ The third is a hawthorn Jinn, named Ladyslipper (apparently after her grandmother).

 

They’re all so young that a Stomper queen is barely novel, and Ronin suspects that that was the bigger consideration in MK's choice. Some of the older candidates were not shy about their curiosity, and the last thing MK wants is to be treated as an oddity.

 

They’re safe enough, and for the time, they surround MK with giggles, jokes, and pranks. Mari is too young for the older games, but Sabine has made it her mission in life to seduce Birch, one of his forest scouts, before Samhain.

 

Birch seems receptive to the seduction.

 

On a bright, hot morning, while Mari, Ladyslipper, and Sabine play and joke near the water’s edge of Moonhaven, MK slips away from them to find him. He’s startled by her sudden appearance on the branch he’s perched his hummingbird on—apparently Tara’s skill for sneaking up on him was not limited to Tara. “Yes, my la—MK?”

 

“We need to talk about my family,” MK says, sitting down on the branch, tucking her skirts underneath her. “My step-mother could have my father behind bars by now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because my father let her know I had left when he got my note, and when I didn’t arrive in the right time, she got worried. Since my father doesn’t know where I am, for all she knows, I’ve been murdered or worse.”

 

“What would be worse than murder?”

 

MK stares at him. “The Jinn don’t have a concept of sexual assault?”

 

Ronin rears back, and Jewelwing jerks, trying to keep in balance. “What?”

 

“You know, violation?”

 

“Who would dare to do such a thing?”

 

MK looks bleak. “Many people, back where I come from. Girls and women—we’re told to protect ourselves from potential assault.”

 

“Should not the ones who commit assault be taught not to attack others?”

 

MK laughs once without mirth. “Yeah, you’d think so. But look, I need to get into contact with Faith, so at least we can prevent state police from trawling all over the woods.”

 

“We’ve hidden from them before,” Ronin says quietly. “They are not stealthy, and Stompers don’t _look_.”

 

“That may be true, but Faith needs to know I’m okay. She’s like my second mom, Ronin.”

 

“What do you suggest?”

 

“Let me get into contact with my dad.”

 

“Out of the question,” Ronin snaps.

 

“So what’s _your_ plan?” MK retorts.

 

Ronin clenches his jaw and looks over the pond of Moonhaven. “Let me think about it. It’s a major security risk.”

 

“I know. Which is why I’m bring it up with you instead of the Council,” MK pulls a face. “I can just imagine what Iris would say about it.”

 

Ronin can imagine it too. It wouldn’t be pretty. “No one has asked past queens to give up their family when they become queen,” he finally sighs. “I’ll see what we can risk.”

 

She kisses his cheek. “Thank you!”

 

**August.**

They’re preparing for Lughnasadh, and to celebrate coming harvest, the queen always throws a large party in the citadel of Moonhaven. Over the course of the evening, the party ends up spilling out into the spiraling staircases and down at the bottom of the citadel, and the queen is always the center of the festivities. There is dancing, and food, and bonfires.

 

It is no shock that MK is completely overwhelmed.

 

“I’ve never even done a small party,” she babbles to Nod during a break from the planning. Since MK’s shown the same predilection that Tara did of escaping from her guard to go exploring (that was not a fun couple of hours, especially that somehow MK had managed to get within half an hour of Wrathwood’s borders. The talk that Ronin and MK shared about that was _not_ enjoyable), Ronin stays close. “My mom didn’t really do a Sweet Sixteen. Instead we went to Cedar Point for the weekend.”

 

Nod takes this with good grace, even though Ronin knows he has no idea what a Sweet Sixteen or Cedar Point is. “It’s okay,” Nod soothes, “Nim’s helping, isn’t he? He can throw together a party with no time to prepare.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s just so much,” MK mourns, rocking back and forth. Her pet morning glory had sensed her mood and fled, so she couldn’t even pet the thing in an attempt to calm herself. “And--.”

 

“Were you not a dancer?” Ronin interrupts, looking at her.

 

She frowns slightly. “Yes...”

 

“Did you perform parts?”

 

“Yeah,” she says slowly.

 

“This is a part you must play, nothing more.”

 

MK brightens. “Oh, okay then.”

 

\--

 

They’ve arranged a way for MK to contact her father, and Ronin is tasked with bringing it to her. She’s in the process of the fine-tuning the details of the Lughnasadh with her attendants when he knocks on the door of her conference chamber. “My lady?”

 

“Ronin!” MK starts, but Sabine interjects.

 

“General, you _must_ tell Queen Mary Katherine that we must have Helenium at Lughnasadh, not lilies. Lilies are summer flowers,” Sabine says saucily, strutting over to Ronin and straightening his vest. Over her shoulder, he can see MK looking amused at her daring.

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Ronin answers, taking a step back, away from Sabine’s hands. Isn’t she seducing Birch? “My lady, if you have a moment....”

 

“Yes, of course, General,” MK says quickly, standing up. “I’ll be back, girls. Fine, we can compromise on yellow and orange lilies,” she says to Sabine, who rolls her eyes but curtsies.

 

Ronin closes the door with a soft _snick_ , and when he turns to MK, her eyes are sparkling. “It’s actually happening? We can contact my dad?”

 

“Tonight,” Ronin cautions, “if the weather holds. We’re stronger on the nights of the full moon, but we must do it before Lughnasadh. The Holly King has chosen to attend, and we need you to be together for that.”

 

“The Holly King is coming?” MK’s voice breaks on the word ‘king.’ “Why?”

 

Ronin looks down at her. Her cheeks have reddened, and he doesn’t blame her. “I do not know,” he admits. “He usually makes an appearance at our celebration on the autumnal equinox, but he’s never joined us for Lughnasadh. Perhaps,” he hesitates, and she narrows her eyes, “perhaps he is curious about you,” he settles on.

 

“I’m tired of being the oddity,” MK grouses. “Do you know that at the beginning of the evening, I have to lead a procession past all of the fields, allowing my magic to fill them or something, and then we end the evening in the citadel? Nim’s hinted that everyone expects me to get rousingly drunk, and now you’re telling me that the Holly King is making an appearance? How do you even know that anyway?”

 

“The Holly King and I—‘friends’ is too strong a word, but he and I have stood watch over Moonhaven together while Tara slept,” now it’s _his_ turn to look away as MK’s face creases with emp—sympathy. “We understand each other. He sent me a message.”

 

“’I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn,’” MK murmurs, placing a gentle hand on his forearm.

 

“What is that?” Ronin asks, grateful for the change in topic. He lets her hand stay on his arm.

 

“The vows of the Night Watch,” she says. “Sometimes, you remind me of them. You’re apprehensive about the Holly King. If you know him, why are you apprehensive?”

 

“He and Tara...they did not easily share conversations. The Holly King is the antithesis of life and growth, since he rules the cold and the dormant. That antithesis can make it difficult to be around him.”

 

“What’s he like?” MK tilts her head, and what must the latest bloom from Nod slips from her hair. He catches it, passing it back to her. She removes her hand from his arm to re-pin her hair and puts the bloom back in it. The white contrasts with the brightness of her red hair, but it matches the white of her dress.

 

“Abrupt,” Ronin says promptly. He reconsiders. “He is blunt, but not to the point of tactlessness. He can observe, even when you are not aware of it, and he’s fond of surprising you with his conclusions when you least expect them.”

 

MK giggles. “You sound put-out about it. Did he run it on you?”

 

“Oh yes,” Ronin says dryly. “You should return to your attendants.”

 

“Sabine was just teasing, you know. She’s trying to figure out if Birch is interested, and since typical strategies have failed, she’s trying jealousy.”

 

“I was not aware Birch was so complicated,” he says wryly, turning to open the door.

 

“That’s because you’re her commanding officer, and since she’s not sure if you approve of the liaison, she’s not going to make a move until she’s sure,” MK shrugs. When he stares, she smiles. “I hear things.”

 

“Have you shared this with Sabine?”

 

“I can’t do everything for people,” MK says demurely, a wicked twinkle in her green eyes. “It’s bad for their characters.”

 

He warms with amusement and affection, and in the heat of the moment, he tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Indeed,” he murmurs, opening the door for his queen. “My lady,” he bows slightly.

 

“General,” she returns, sashaying back into her conference chamber.

 

\--

 

If MK is nervous about seeing her father, Nod is absolutely out of his mind with worry, especially since he isn’t going.

 

“I know the house,” Nod argues, almost desperately.

 

“You’re not a forest scout,” Ronin says flatly. “Only I am going inside with her. The forest scouts will be surrounding the house, and we’re not bothering with the barge. It will be quick, since Her Majesty is determined that the Boggans not see her father as a target.”

 

Nod shudders at the thought. Other Stompers have tried to live in the woods. It didn’t turn out well for them.

 

“Your training is to put you in the van guard,” Ronin says, gently. He claps Nod on the shoulder. “You’re not trained to be a scout, and I need scouts for this.”

 

“I’m one of the best flyers,” he tries.

 

“No, not yet,” Ronin can feel the crest of his temper approaching. He tries to stave it off. “You’re getting there, but not yet.” He looks up at the sky—the sun is starting to set, and he would like them to be gone and back before moonrise. “You’re under Finn’s command until we return.”

 

What this means is that Finn will let Nod sulk—Finn’s always been more lax with Nod than Ronin. Perhaps it is for the best. The boy, while skilled, is not who he needs for this.

 

He grabs his helmet and goes to retrieve his queen. At his recommendation, she’s wearing a Leafwoman uniform. They want to be fast and unobserved. If she’s wearing her queenly finery, they might be fast but not unobserved.

 

“How do I fasten the helmet?” she asks in frustration when she sees him. Her attendants look as lost as she does. “I know there’s a way to do it, but Arya was called away before she could explain it.”

 

“May I?” he asks.

 

“Of course,” she says, tilting her head up as he comes over to her.

 

“It fastens behind the left ear,” he explains, cinching the strap and locking it in place. “However, if there’s pressure on it, the catch will release so that it won’t choke you. Our blacksmiths worked very hard on that.”

 

“Well, that makes sense,” MK grimaces. “I was thinking it fastened beneath the chin.”

 

“It did originally,” he concedes, offering her his arm as they leave her chambers. “But it was too easily used against us, so we worked on a different design.”

 

“Ah,” MK says, letting herself be hoisted onto Jewelwing. Ronin settles in front of her as the rest of the scouts mount up, and at his command, they go.

 

The air’s still hazy from the heat, but there’s a turn to the air warning that fall is on its way.  The sun is painting the sky in reds and purples as it sets, and he hears MK’s  “Wow” of appreciation. He silently agrees—though the sunsets are always magnificent, he never tires of their beauty.

 

“My window in my city apartment faced the north,” she tells him as they duck under a low branch. “I never saw sunset or sunrise.”

 

“How sad,” he says softly. He can’t imagine being unable to see sunrise or sunset.

 

“You didn’t see much of anything from my apartment, actually. Only other buildings, and they get old after a while.”

 

MK’s described cities before, a group of buildings clustered together, with almost no greenery and too many people for the space. It’s a terrifying thought, to be so far from greenlife.

 

They arrive at the clearing that her father’s home is in, and while Ronin perches Jeweling, he instructs the scouts to keep in the air with hand-signals. They’ve never seen Boggans in this area, but they never saw Boggans at the pod pond, either, and he refuses to be complacent again.

 

MK’s used her father’s cameras to alert him that she was coming, but he doesn’t know if she told him what she was now, or if her father is expecting her to come in all due state. Ronin snorts to himself. No doubt he _wishes_ she would.

 

Her fingers flutter over the strap of the helmet, and she gets it, taking it off and tucking it under her arm. Ronin opens the window, entering first to watch for that beast. When he spots the beast asleep, he relaxes a fraction and gestures for MK to come in.

 

She steps in carefully, automatically going to lift up skirts she’s not wearing. When she notices his subtle amusement, she sticks her tongue out at him and turns the movement into wiping her hands on her leggings.

 

“Mary—Katherine,” her father booms, his movements ‘hurried’ and excited. He offers his hand, and she steps onto it, catching herself when he moves his hand when she hasn’t settled in properly. “You’re—here!—You’re—small.”

 

“Yeah, Dad,” she winces, gesturing to Ronin, who follows them carefully. “Have you heard from Faith?”

 

Her father’s face contorts. “She’s—had—the—police—here—twice—but—they—didn’t—find—anything.”

 

“Dad, I need to talk to her to let her know I’m okay.”

 

“I—don’t—know—if—she’d—pick—up—the—phone—if—I—called.”

 

“Try anyway, please,” MK begs.

 

Her father nods, placing her on the tableside next to his screens, and Ronin jumps from the counter near the window to the floor, and back up to the table. Her worry is pouring off of her, and he squeezes her shoulder once to reassure her.

 

Instead of reaching for what Ronin _knows_ to be a phone (MK had been determined to retrieve her—‘phone,’ even if it lacked power, and had gone to fetch it, tugging Nod along the way. He had met them once they had returned, and was not impressed with the phone, and told MK in no short order that it was not worth compromising her safety), her father powers up one of the screens, and some kind of icon shows up. MK tenses as that icon turns green and starts to beep, and finally an older woman with dark hair (with streaks of grey), wearing black-rimmed eyeglasses answers. “Bomba, I am not— _Mary Katherine_.” The woman stands up, her chair falling backward. “Sweetheart, are you okay? What are you wearing?”

 

“Um, armor,” MK answers, tugging on it self-consciously. “For protection and everything. Faith, I’m okay—I swear I haven’t been kidnapped or anything.”

 

“Then why haven’t you contacted us before this?” Faith demands, righting her chair and sitting on it.

 

MK winces. “It’s a long story. You know how Dad’s been looking for tiny people in the forest?”

 

“Yes,” Faith snorts.

 

“Well, they were kinda there. And I kinda got thrown into the middle of a conflict, and here I am.”

 

“What are you telling me?”

 

“Faith, I got shrunk,” MK sighs. “And then, for whatever reason, I—and this is going to sound _really_ stupid—was chosen as their queen.”

 

Faith’s eyebrows are nearly on level with her hairline. “Is this one of Bomba’s tricks?”

 

“Dad, can you come into frame?” MK calls. Her father steps in, and Faith’s eyes widen before she faints, dead away.

 

MK winces. “Oops.”

 

Faith comes to not long after that. “Sweetie, I think you’d better start from the beginning,” she rasps, sitting up and rubbing her head.

 

So she does, explaining how everything started. Ronin knows her well enough to know when she’s editing things, but what she leaves in—that which he didn’t know—is still pretty damning, and Faith turns her gaze from MK to Bomba, who steps out of frame to avoid it.

 

Still, Faith manages to keep a straight face until MK gets to the mouse, where she goggles. “Was there any lasting damage, sweetie?”

 

“No,” MK shakes her head.

 

“All right, continue.”

 

Faith appears more and more distressed as MK outlines the rest of their ‘adventure,’ and when she gets to her first confrontation with Mandrake, she gasps. “Is he still alive?” Faith demands. “Because I will _kill him_.”

 

“We...don’t actually know?” MK sneaks a peek at Ronin, who nods. “He’s not with the Boggans, but he hasn’t been seen anywhere else.”

 

Faith’s face is tight. “We are changing you back. It’s clearly too dangerous.”

 

“I can’t do that, Faith,” MK sighs. “Besides, I’m safer now than I have been.”

 

“If the Boogies can--.”

 

“Tell me, would I be safer on a college campus?” MK demands, propping her hands on her hips. “In New York City? C’mon, get real. The only major threat _are_ Boggans, and believe me, I’m surrounded by at least three guards on a regular basis. Ronin—come here,” she orders.

 

He obeys—this is his queen speaking. “Faith, this is Ronin. He’s the General of the Leafmen, and he’s in charge of my personal protection. He’s rarely separated from me.”

 

He bows. “Ma’am.”

 

Faith purses her lips. “Continue,” she grates out.

 

MK goes on, and when she gets to the whole ‘becoming queen’ thing, Ronin glances at her father and sees he’s taking notes. His lips thin. He’ll have to make sure those are destroyed before they leave.

 

“What day is good for you?” Faith says once MK has finished.

 

MK blinks. “What?”

 

“I am not leaving you out there. You’re my family, MK, and I’m not abandoning you just because the little people of the forest needed you. What day is good for you?”

 

MK looks at Ronin in confusion. He’s already decided he likes Faith, and he tells her, “The day after the autumnal equinox.”

 

“What?”

 

“Trust me. The day after the autumnal equinox.”

 

“Um, the day after the autumnal equinox.”

 

“Autumnal equinox—September 22. Yeah, I can get there September 23rd. I’ll bring your grandmother—she’s been missing you too.”

 

MK’s face creases into wistfulness. “How’s she doing?”

 

“She’s been stable,” Faith tells her, and MK sags a little in relief. “Believe me, once I tell her this, she’ll bring her measuring tape and knitting needles, and before you know it, everyone you know will be outfitted with sweaters and blankets.”

 

MK smiles. “That’s Grandma Lyse for you,” she mutters. “Faith, by the way, you can’t tell people about little people in the forest,” she implores. “There are so many safety issues I’m not even joking.”

 

“Better tell that to your father,” Faith says meaningfully.

 

Yes. Ronin likes her.

 

“Dad, seriously, don’t shout this to the skies,” MK says, turning to face her father. “Once people know about my people, it’s not unusual for my people to die. If we’re the engine of the ecosystem, like you think, imagine what would happen if we’re gone.”

 

Ronin feels approval fill him as MK refers to them as ‘her people.’ It’s the first time she’s willingly considered them her people to others, and that’s a big step.

 

He wonders what Tara would think about this.

 

“Oh--no,” her father says quickly, closing his notebook. “This—is—for—my—personal--records,--nothing--more.”

 

Ronin doesn’t believe him. He’ll send a squad in later to destroy his notes. When he looks back at Faith, he sees she’s thinking the same thing.

 

“I’ll make sure we plan out the logistics,” MK tells Faith, “but my general’s getting antsy, so we’d better go.”

 

“Stay safe,” Faith says directly. “Hey, Ronin?”

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“You keep my girl safe,” Faith orders him.

 

He inclines his head. “You may count on it.”

 

“Good.”

 

\--

 

She’s managed to open the dancing without major mishap, and she’s even comfortable with it, but the dancing comes to a lull as the Holly King pads out of the darkness, his white coat stark against the shadows. However, he’s blurred, and the outline of his body isn’t clear. Ronin’s never seen the Holly King before the autumnal equinox, and perhaps that’s the difference. He takes a step forward as the Holly King bows to MK, his antlers not yet the magnificence they will become.

 

_\--My queen, it would please me if you could walk with me for a time.—_

MK stares up at him, and then she looks back at Ronin. Ronin relaxes his hand around his sword hilt, nodding to her. Without preamble, she grabs onto his antlers and hauls herself up, sitting on one of his antlers. The Holly King turns around, and then breaks into a trot, heading into the darkness.

 

Nod appears at Ronin’s elbow. “You let her go _off with him_?”

 

“He won’t harm her, and she’s as safe as can be,” he says shortly. Nod does not have the working relationship with the Holly King that he has. He must be patient. “The Boggans dare not attack the Holly King, not while he’s out of their territory.”

 

“They are the king and queen of the forest,” Arya reminds Nod, cuffing him upside the head as she joins the two of them. “Between them, they could decimate anything that would harm them. She’s safer with him than with us.”

 

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

 

Arya snorts. “If she chooses to let you in on it, I’m sure you’ll find out.”

 

She’s gone for some time, and when she returns, she throws herself back into the festivities, and he watches her dance with Arya, Jansen, Nod, and some of the other Jinn. Someone has to keep a level head; he reminds himself this when Arya tries to push him into the dancing.

 

Once the festivities have wound down, all of the spirits drunk (Ronin gives his soldiers a pass on the festival nights, and he pretends he isn’t counting how many of them are tilting thanks to their inebriation) and food eaten, he takes stock.

 

The Holly King brought MK back towards the end of the evening, and she was drawn, but at the same time there was the glint of purpose in her eyes. She had jumped down from his antlers, but whatever she had been told she had elected to wait on until after Lughnasadh had passed.

 

MK watches over Nod, who is completely passed out, his head in her lap. She’s blinking too much not to be at least somewhat inebriated, but her gaze is fixed as she runs careful hands through Nod’s hair.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

MK blinks, focusing on Ronin. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says slowly. She’s trying to hide her inebriation, and he’s amused. He’s acted as parent to many young Leafmen, and they’ve all used different tricks to hide the fact they’ve drunk too much. Speaking slowly cropped up more often than most. “Nod’s out. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

 

“Do you need to rest?”

 

“Haven’t needed to do that since June,” MK says, swaying a little.

 

“I said rest, not sleep,” Ronin points out.

 

“That may be a plan,” MK looks down, “but I don’t want to disturb Nod.”

 

Ronin considers this, before he looks at her. “Rest. I’ll stay with you.”

 

She looks up at him. “You promise?”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Okay then,” she yawns, and she tilts her head back against the wall, asleep in moments.

 

He stays until Nod wakes up, where he sends out his godson to the barracks to bathe, because he smells like a distillery. Once Nod’s gone, he picks MK carefully—she wakes up briefly, “What’s going on?”

 

“Go back to sleep.”

 

“M—okay.”

 

\--and takes her to her bed, depositing her on top of the covers. He closes the door, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he grabs a chair, puts it by the door, and sits. He’s not leaving her alone, not after meeting the Holly King for the first time.

 

He thinks he hears Tara’s laughter, but he ignores it.

 

\--

 

The first few days after any major celebration is always hazy for the queen—no matter how long Tara’s reign had been, she was always fuzzy after a major celebration, and it’s no different for MK.

 

The influx of energy plus the amount of liquor quaffed always deemed it so.

 

“I have something to tell you,” she tells him, holding onto the wall and staring fixedly at the floor, “once the floor stops moving.”

 

“Take your time,” he says. This likely has to do with the Holly King, but he suspects she will tell him in a few days, when her head has stopped ringing.

 

“No, I need to tell you,” she frowns, “but I can’t focus.”

 

“Where are your attendants?”

 

“Sabine and Birch,” she gestures, “doing—stuff. Mari’s with her mom. I don’t know where Ladyslipper is.”

 

He makes a mental note to get someone to find Ladyslipper.  “Perhaps you should sit,” he suggests, pulling out a chair and sitting down in his own, pulling recruitment lists toward him.

 

She takes the seat, cradling her head. “The Holly King said—said,” she slams a fist down on the table, “I _hate_ this. He said that Mandrake is back with his Boggans, but they won’t be an—an,” she squints, clearly trying to focus, “an issue until...how long is this supposed to last?”

 

“When Tara first became queen, she was often affected for around five days,” he says kindly, “towards the latter end, it was more like two. She explained it that you give out a great deal of energy, but you get it back, and plus the liquor issue—she considered it an extended magical hangover.”

 

“Ugh,” MK groans, leaning back in her chair. “I do _not_ like this.” She narrows her gaze, “Said the Boggans won’t be an issue until...until...next spring. I think. He told me, but then there was the drinking and-and dancing and Nod kissed me, and...” She peers at Ronin. “Please don’t be mad at him.”

 

“Why would I be mad?” he inquires, moving onto the second page of the recruitment lists. “It’s no different than what I did at his age.”

 

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill him,” she confides, slumping in her chair and rubbing her temples.

 

“He performs better that way,” Ronin says drolly, marking a few names on his list.

 

“That’s—sneaky.”

 

“He hasn’t figured it out yet, so I’m safe.” He flips the page. “So the Holly King’s neutralized the Boggans?”

 

“Dunno,” MK frowns. “Can’t remember if he did or something else.”

 

“I’ll ask him when I see him next,” Ronin says, leaning back. “Who are you reading about today?”

 

MK glares at her scroll. “Alys and Henry David Thoreau.”

 

“Is that bad?”

 

“Can’t concentrate.” MK curls up in on herself in the chair, “And Nim’s hinted there would be a quiz.”

 

He, privately, doubts it, but they all have their ways of motivating their charges. He holds out a hand. “Give it here.”

 

She passes it to him. “What are you?”

 

He clears his throat, leaning back in his chair. “’This was not Thoreau’s first time in the forest, but it was the first time that Queen Alys was out, and unlike other Mortals, Thoreau saw Queen Alys...”

 

**September.**

 

The leaves have begun to turn, and MK’s dress turns from bright green to a deeper green, closer to the color of pines, while the white begins to have touches of red and dark yellow to it. The apples are falling from the trees, and the brewers are grabbing what they can—apple brandy can only be made at this specific time, and they need to make enough to last until next fall.

 

The nights have taken on a chillier turn, to the point that the Leafmen have braziers in the barracks, and MK has her office fire lit from before sunset to after sunrise. Her sleeves have lengthened, and the material is thicker.

 

The Leaf-Men change their uniforms into primarily yellow and red colors. Some of them, it suits. Others, it does not.

 

Like Nod.

 

Or Birch, who changes her armor with resignation. Ronin pretends not to overhear Sabine promise that that makes it more fun to take off later.

 

Nod appears not to care, but when he stands next to MK, they make quite a picture, and he can see Nod quivering with suppressed indignation—or maybe the indignation comes from the fact that MK told him he looks like a ‘traffic light.’ While laughing.

 

Ronin presumes it’s not a good thing.

 

Time passes, and MK grows more accustomed. She oversees the harvest coming in, with varying results. The grain does well, while the fruit were less so. Only the apples have the kind of harvest they were hoping for, but there’s enough food to last them through the winter and early spring, but it’s nice to have extra as a just in case measure.

 

Unlike Lughnasadh, the vernal equinox celebrations go fairly smoothly. Nod does not lose his sobriety, and the Holly King observes but does not take part (as is his wont), and there are no accidents.

 

Since this is a celebration recognizing the end of a cycle, the energy is different, and so MK becomes flushed with it, but it does not overwhelm her in the way Lughnasadh energy did.

 

Instead, it makes her bubbly and happy, and she spends a great deal of time dancing with her attendants and trying to dance with him and Nod. He declines; Nod does not.

 

He’ll dance on Oestara. Dancing with her now only brings up memories of dancing with Tara on the autumnal equinox, her dress swaying with the music as she tried to get to him to smile. Why hadn’t he smiled more with her? She deserved all that he could give and more.

 

There’s no way to mistake MK for Tara, she’s too different, too excitable and too easily overwhelmed, but there is something that makes him look for Tara’s face when he looks at her. The same—sense of humor and mischief, even if MK only shows it in flashes, when it was Tara’s overall personality.

 

Watching her dance with Nod and laugh with his protégé is like seeing himself and Tara, a century ago. His heart squeezes in pain, and he breathes out deeply. He’s here as General, he can’t show his grief.

 

_\--Hello, old friend_.--  He feels the Holly King nudge him gently with the tip of his antler.

 

“Hello,” he says, carefully releasing his hilt.

 

_\--I see you’re still missing your queen_.—

 

“Mary Katherine is my queen.”

 

_\--In title, but she does not rule your heart._ —

 

Ronin unclenches his hands. “What do you want?”

 

\-- _Merely to say that you look well. My brother said, well, not said as you and I conceive of it, that you did not did appear to have long for this world after your battle with Mandrake. I am glad to see that he was wrong_.— The Holly King’s tone changes, into something a touch more miffed. – _You did not tell me how close you were to dying. You are one of my favorite Jinn in a millennia._ —

 

“We haven’t exactly talked lately,” Ronin says dryly.

 

The Holly King chuffs. – _True. Still, we cannot afford to lose you. Especially now_ —

 

“Why, what’s going on now?”

 

\-- _Mandrake is putting the finishing touches to a plan. Certainly in the abstract it makes sense, but in execution it is_ wrong. _There are lasting effects when a blooming pod remains too long in darkness._ —

 

“Where are you going with this?” Ronin demands, grasping the hilt again. “MK hasn’t shown any dark tendencies, and in fact, she’s even—“

 

\-- _That is not what I am saying_ — The Holly King chuffs again, this time in anger. – _The danger does not come from her. It comes from_ Mandrake _. He knows that if a blooming pod is too long in darkness, it is more susceptible to harm from darkness._ —

 

“What is his plan?”

 

\-- _He will invite her to meet with him in Wrathwood, to negotiate borders and hunting rights. He intends to drag out the process as long as possible, for if the queen remains too long in Wrathwood the taint will cause her physical harm. If she is there during the dark of the moon, she will die._ —

 

“And Mandrake knows this?”

 

\-- _He does_. _He is not entirely aware that I track his movements, just as I track the queen’s. Given that the queen is not of the forest, these basic things which I know, and that previous queens knew, she does not. Her ignorance makes her vulnerable._ —

 

“We’re trying to catch her up to speed. It’s difficult when she does know the language,” Ronin says defensively.

 

\-- _Tara should have given her that knowledge. She was slain by Boggan arrow, was she not?_ —

 

“Yes,” Ronin says, clipped.

 

\-- _Has she discovered the queensgrove yet?_ —

 

“What?”

 

_\--It is_ — The Holly King shakes his head. His antlers are larger now, hinting at what they will become. – _She does not yet know. She will learn. This winter will be long and hard, but you face no Boggan threat._ — He turns, beginning to pad away. – _Good night, my friend_ —

 

“Good night.” Ronin watches him go, realizing that the sun is coming up. He turns to look back at the celebration and sees that many of the Jinn have gone back to their homes. Nod is standing with MK in the center, her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist. They’re just standing, and Nod looks like he could be murmuring to her as she rests her forehead on his chest.

 

Ronin leaves them be.

 

\--

 

Faith is not at all what he expects.

 

She had seemed fairly no-nonsense, and that she is, but she briskly takes charge of the entire excursion after Ronin goes over the safety requirements.

 

They all (here meaning Nim, MK, Nod, Finn, Arya, himself, and a squad of other Leafmen) meet up at Bomba’s home, and after MK has been given to her grandmother’s charge (who, true to Faith’s prediction, is measuring the Leafmen for what appears to be sweaters), Faith makes a beeline for him. “Ronin—right?”

 

He bows.

 

“I—would—like—see—Moonhaven—whilst—Bomba—is—occupied,” Faith says. “I—would—like—to--see—where—my—stepdaughter—is—living.—I—will—not—touch—or—destroy—anything.” He’s about to refuse, when she adds, “I—will—find—it—by—hook—or—by—crook.—Show—me—so—I—don’t—have—to.”

 

“I cannot leave my lady alone,” he says.

 

“She—is—not—alone,” Faith points out. “I’m—not—asking—for—the—grand—tour.—Just—a—look.”

 

He sighs. “Very well. Just you and I, and we cannot tarry.”

 

Faith nods. “That—is—all—I—wanted.”

 

The trip is swift—Faith is faster than MK’s father, but that isn’t saying much—and when they stop at the mouth of the spring that Moonhaven feeds, Faith stares. “It’s—more—beautiful—than—I—thought—it—would—be.”

 

“That is what MK thought,” he agrees.

 

“You—need—to—protect—her,” Faith says quietly, and it’s easier on his ears than her usual tone. “She’s—my—daughter—too,--and—I—can’t—protect—her—anymore.”

 

“That is my job,” he remarks.

 

“Don’t—do—it—because—it’s—your—job.—Do—it—because—it’s—her.”

 

“I will,” he promises.

 

Faith’s face creases into a smile. “Thank—you.”

 

\--

 

**October.**

MK has relaxed since she’s seen her stepmother and her grandmother. Apparently, Lyse had taken measurements of all of the Leafmen present (him excepted), and now there’s a steady stream of packages left by Bomba of sweaters, gloves, mittens, hats, and scarves, addressed to specific people.

 

MK is amused, the Leafmen are grateful (winters get cold), and he—isn’t sure what to feel. Family has always been a struggle for him, since he lost his parents very young and Tara and Jaeger had always been his family.

 

Now they’re gone, and in their place he has MK, Nod, Finn, and Arya.

 

On one hand, it’s nice that MK and her family are close, but on the other, his job of protecting not only MK but also the Jinn in general would be easier if she were not. She still refuses to show her father where Moonhaven is, but she—with Nod or Arya, depending on the day—go to the monitors to chat with her father every few days, just to reassure him that she’s all right.

 

Faith lectured him, Ronin knows. He wonders how long it will last, especially since MK is to fall into the Sleep at the end of the month.

 

The latest package involves two knitted blankets, one for MK in sparkling blues and greens, and the other is for him, green edged with gold. The material is soft, and though he doesn’t say anything, he’s flattered and pleased. He hadn’t really spoken to Lyse, but either Faith spoke to her or she deliberately remembered him.

 

It is highly likely Faith spoke to Lyse.

 

He doesn’t say anything to anyone about the blanket now covering his bed, but MK somehow finds out.

 

“Do you like the blanket? Grandma Lyse knits so much better than I do.”

 

“How did you--?”

 

“Trees talk,” she remarks. Her smile turns wicked, “even the trees that make up Leafmen barracks. I now know more about who’s sleeping with whom than I ever wanted to.”

 

“Got the graphic details of Sabine and Birch’s liaison, did you?” he asks dryly as he makes room for her on the branch. Below, Mari and Ladyslipper are skating over the iced-over pond on wooden skates (the blades have been dipped in the liquefied junk metal from Leafmen clasps and buckles—it wasn’t good enough for armor-grade, but it’s more than worth it for skates for the queen and her attendants). MK sits down on the icy branch, twitching her skirt until it’s covering her legs completely.

 

“Yes,” she grouses. “She’s with Birch _all the time_. She’s _my_ attendant!”

 

“You could tell Iris.”

 

“If I wanted Iris to scold me,” she grumbles. “’You should control your attendants more,’ is what she told me when she heard that Mari and Ladyslipper played a prank on Nim. She feels like she’s judging me all the time. Why is she on the Council again?”

 

“Because she has the most experience with working with queens and politics,” Ronin says patiently. He has no love for the woman, either, but Queen Alys had chosen her to be one of Tara’s attendants. Tara had rued it since, but a queen cannot overrule an explicit order from her predecessor about her behavior or choices of Council.

 

Tara has left no such thing for MK. He’s grateful for it, and so is MK, he knows.

 

“I hate her,” MK says flatly. “Anyway, should we expect Mandrake to attack once I fall asleep for the winter?”

 

“I have it on excellent authority he will not be a threat this winter. However, it will be long, so the spare food gathered will be used.” He clears his throat. “In spring, however—spring will another matter.”

 

“I’m strongest in the spring and summer, right?” MK bares her teeth. “Bring it on.”

 

He places a hand on her shoulder. “You have your vulnerabilities,” he reminds her, seeing Nod land that mangy sparrow and run out onto the ice to pick up Mari and circle around with her. Mari shrieks with laughter and then fear as Nod loses his footing on the ice and falls over. Mari laughs again when she lands on him. Ladyslipper helps her up and together they chase Nod around the pond, until he gives up and jumps onto land. “You are vulnerable to Wrathwood.”

 

“Good thing I don’t have any plans to go there,” MK says tartly. Her eyes are tracking Nod as he picks up snow to throw at her attendants. She giggles when she sees Nod throw it and it hitting Ladyslipper in the face. “You never told me if you liked the blanket,” she accuses, looking up at him.

 

“I do like it,” he concedes. “It—works.”

 

She smiles. “That’s all I needed to know.” She jumps down from branch to branch, until she can sneak behind her attendants and shove snow down their collars. They shriek in perfect unison, and Ronin allows a rare chuckle before focusing on his duties once again.

 

\--

 

Samhain is dark and cold. MK’s dress has tightened around her legs and covers her arms and her torso in sparkling white and deep green, respectively. That’s still not enough, and she winds a green wrap around her shoulders as she watches the Jinn build bonfires to stave off the restless dead. Watching her, Ronin can think of at least two people she might wish to see, but the holiday has left her somber and quiet, and she stays close to him or to Nod, who is more than happy to wrap an arm around her and she leans into him, watching Iris direct Nim and some of the pinecone Jinn to making a central bonfire, where MK will address them before they follow her and her attendants to her bedchamber, where, in a ceremony steeped with history, they will bid their queen good night and officially let her go to Sleep as they promise to be there to wake her up at sunrise of Oestara.

 

MK’s a little nervous about addressing everyone. He can relate.

 

Finally, the sun starts to set and everyone gathers around, and he stands behind her, along with Nim, Iris, and Baum. Her hands twitch, so she fists them in her skirt. “So, I, um, know that this has been a hard year. For everybody. You lost a queen and gained a new one, and no one expected it would be me. Least of all me.” Slight laughter ripples through the circle, and she relaxes a little. “Samhain is about endings and respecting the past so that we can move forward onto the future,” she recites—directly from her scrolls, and Ronin sees Nim straighten with pride out of the corner of his eye. “You have a rich history, a history I am now a part of, so I guess it’s also my history.”

 

He sees Iris roll her eyes slightly, and he presses his lips together against his temper.

 

“I know that the spirit of Tara lives on here,” she continues. “Not just in me, but in you too. We may be queens, but we aren’t anything without our people. She’s present everywhere, in the air and the water and the forest. So please join me in a toast,” Nim strategically hands her a glass of apple brandy, “to the memory of Tara.”

 

Everyone holds up a glass and takes a drink.

 

“And I also want to say thank you,” MK says sincerely, “the transition hasn’t been easy, but you all have welcomed me with open arms, and for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” She holds up her glass, and everyone follows suit. MK drains it, passing the glass back to Nim.

 

Iris steps forward. “Let us lead the queen to her rest,” she says imperiously, and MK turns to head toward the bedchamber, her attendants falling in line behind her, and Ronin notices that Nod has somehow jockeyed to stand next to him as they lead MK to her chambers.

 

Once they get there, she crawls into the bed that dominates the room, and her attendants follow, until they each have their own section of the bed, with their own blanket. The sparkly blues and greens catch in the candle light that each Jinn carries, and as one, they recite, “Get you gone to the Land of Sleep, and here we will wait with your soul to keep, for you are gone but yet remain, and soon you will return again.”

 

As one, everyone blows out their candle, and Nod tucks the blanket around MK. She grabs his wrist and looks between him and Ronin. “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”

 

“Yes,” Nod promises.

 

“I promise,” Ronin tells her.

 

She sags in relief, and once her head touches the pillow, she’s asleep.

 

She will not wake for some time.

 

\--

 

**November-December.**

The time until the winter solstice passes without mention. There are no Boggan attacks, but that doesn’t mean he stops patrol (except for winter storms, of which there are many this year, and he wonders why).

 

There are guards who switch duty for guarding the Queen’s chambers. Nod requests this more than any other, and he does not blame him—he remembers being in Nod’s position and also requesting the duty for guarding Tara—so he allows Nod his way more often than not.

 

He also guards her chambers—mostly at night. As he’s gotten older, he has required less sleep, and he wonders if that’s an aspect to Jinn aging. Most Leafmen do not live as long as he has, and each Jinn ages differently, thanks to their identification.

 

The Winter Solstice comes, and he has patrol that day. The Holly King, resplendent in his blazing white coat and many-tiered antlers, comes by to visit, and together they stand over Moonhaven until the sun goes down. They don’t say anything, but then, they never have to, not this day.

 

A storm comes up that night, and he calls for all Leafmen to come in. Everyone’s accounted for, and they pass through the three nights of storms down in the hollows underneath Moonhaven. Only he, Nod, Birch, and Jansen leave, to take turns guarding MK and her attendants.

 

On the second night of the storm, it’s Ronin’s turn to sit there through the night. He has insulated himself against the seeping cold with some of Tara’s things that she made him, and over his lap he has the blanket that Lyse knitted for him. Perhaps it’s because he’s wearing something she made for him, he imagines Tara is there, watching over him.

 

He can barely hear her laugh over the roar of the winter winds, but it’s there, and he looks around frantically, but he can’t see her. Warmth seeps into his coverings, and he wonders if it’s her.

 

“Tara?” he chances to speak out loud. No one’s around. “Are you with me?”

 

The warmth tightens around him, and now he knows she’s here. He wishes he could see her, and as he thinks that, the warmth spreads again but the sense of _presence_ is gone.

 

He feels hollow and cold, despite his coverings and the warmth, and he wishes for spring. It’s easier not to think about missing her when he’s busy.

 

It’s just different degrees of hurting.

 

\--

 

**January-February-early March**.

 

Imbolc passes with a sign that winter will continue for the next six weeks. The Leafmen grumble, but they haven’t lost anyone to exposure or to frostbite—a first for decades. It helps that there have been no Boggan attacks—the rates of death from exposure sharply correlate with fending off Boggan attacks.

 

Slowly, though, light and warmth start to return. The Jinn start to prepare their seed and check on their land to ensure that it’ll be seed-ready by the time that MK wakes up. The hummingbirds return from their migration, and many lay eggs in the warmth of the mews two weeks before MK is due to wake up.

 

Their eggs have always hatched on the day the queen woke. It’s been historically true going all the way back to when hummingbirds were first domesticated by the Jinn that later became the Leafmen.

 

The Jinn start to prepare with their meager resources left to them. The queen must be greeted with festivities once she wakes up, as a way to herald the coming new year. Everyone wears their finest clothing, and with spring’s first flowers, they weave crowns for everyone (including the Leafmen, to Ronin’s eternal embarrassment), and once MK and her attendants wake up, they will have flower crowns of their own.

 

They will be there when the queen wakes up, and carry her with them out into the citadel, where they will dance and rejoice in the coming year for an entire day.

 

Ronin knows he should be preparing for that, but he’s too focused on the Holly King’s warning—the Boggans will be a threat come spring, and Mandrake is going to try to kill MK by luring her to Wrathwood on the dark of the moon.

 

He has to be prepared for that.

 

\--

 

**Late March.**

Nod’s excited, if his bouncing is anything to go by. They, and the rest of the Jinn, are clustered around the opening to the queen’s chambers. At some point, MK, Ladyslipper, Sabine, and Mari moved from their respective corners of the bed to form a large pile, their blankets strewn across them. Next to him, Ronin watches Mari’s mother. She looks worried, and he has no doubt that she will envelope her daughter the moment Mari wakes up. Birch also looks anxious—no doubt she’s wondering if Sabine will want to continue their relationship.

 

Ladyslipper’s sister, Rose (appropriately a rose Jinn), waits as well.

 

The sun starts to rise, and once the light from the rising sun bathes the citadel, MK and her attendants slowly blink awake. A cheer rises up from the Jinn, and MK does a visible double-take, before her eyes land on Ronin and Nod. She sags a little—had her worry been that great?—before extracting herself from the pile and the blankets. Mari runs into her mother’s arms, Sabine into Birch’s (Birch looks relieved), and Ladyslipper staggers over to her sister. MK heads toward Nod and Ronin, and she takes their arms as the Jinn lead her out to greet the sun.

 

She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. The Jinn pause, waiting to hear what she has to say. “A good year,” she announces, and another cheer rises as the musicians start to play and the Jinn begin to dance.

 

Nod pulls MK into the dancing immediately, but by noon, she’s sitting on the side, watching Nod dance with Mari, and she pulls Ronin’s shirtsleeve. “I need to go to the queensgrove.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I need to go the queensgrove. Tara told me—it’s important. Can we do that tomorrow?”

 

“I don’t know,” he frowns, adjusting his purple-and-pink-morning-glory flower crown. It is tradition. “I don’t know where it is.”

 

“I do, but if you won’t go with me, I’ll go alone.”

 

“Can you wait a week?”

 

She sighs. “I guess. You want to make sure it’s okay?”

 

“Yes,” he says flatly.

 

“How did everything go? Did we lose anyone?”

 

“It was a loss-free winter,” he confirms, watching her adjust her purple crown. Nod had made it himself. It shows. “We should arrange for you to contact your father at the earliest date.”

 

MK wrinkles her nose. “I guess. Are you ever going to dance?”

 

“Perhaps in a bit,” he says.

 

She props her hands on her hips. “As your queen, I command that you dance _now_.”

 

Her tone is petulant, at odds with her words, and he looks down on her, his lips quirking slightly in amusement. “As my queen commands.”

 

He remembers dancing with Tara on Oestara. She would save the most lewd gestures for Beltane (he never got to jump over the embers with her, and he wishes he could have), but she was always very touchy on Oestara.

 

MK is not.

 

Her hand is slightly sweaty where it’s pressed into his, and she seems a little uncomfortable with how easily the Jinn reach out to touch her. He remembers that Stompers do not act this way—they do not have someone who embodies their people to that extent.

 

She will become accustomed. It is only a matter of time.

 

Liquor flows freely, and while he refuses all drinks offered to him, it would be bad form for MK to, so she drinks everything passed to her. Nod (the boy is _such_ a lightweight, does he get it from Marina? Jaeger could drink _him_ under the table) has already sat out, having drained three shots.

 

MK is giggly and loose, and finally he extricates her from a knot of well-meaning Jinn. She decides right then that she can no longer walk, and instead of arguing with her (Ronin lost count at her twelfth drink), he merely picks her up. Her head lolls against his chest as he takes her back into the citadel. Tara never slept off the alcohol directly after she woke up from the Sleep; MK won’t either. Instead, she gets to lose the inebriation the long way—little bits at a time.

 

Once she’s settled in a comfortable chair and examining the pillow’s embroidery, he goes back to ensure that Arya and Jansen are making sure that the Leafmen are taken care of. Once he gets that assurance, he heads back to MK.

 

He settles down in the chair opposite her, and she gets up without ceremony and pushes him over, sitting between him and the armrest. It’s more comfortable than you’d think, and she rests her head on his arm. “You—loved Tara,” she says, slurring her words, even if they’re recognizable. “She—said sh’was yours.”

 

“And I was hers,” he agrees.

 

MK slaps him lightly. “You stud—you.” She sighs. “I get—no one. Nod’s there, but no’there. He’s not here. You are.”

 

“He’s already passed out,” Ronin tells her.

 

“Lightweight,” she snorts. She curls up against him. “I dun like people, dad,” she says sleepily. “They touch—too much.”

 

His arm is starting to cramp, so he moves it around her shoulders. She snuggles in more deeply, veiling her eyes. “Why do they touch, dad?”

 

He freezes. He and Tara had talked about children exactly once, and it had gone like this:

 

“I want kids.”

 

“I as well, but you’re still the queen.”

 

“I retire in two years. Kids then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Now the current queen considers him her father. It’s odd, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. Given her actual father, he can’t entirely blame her. “They want to know you’re real,” he says evasively. He’s not going to touch the father issue for now.

 

“Here I am,” she hiccups.

 

That’s the last she says for the next few hours. She’s awake, but it’s more like a meditative state. She wants to be in contact with _him_ , and he wonders if that’s Tara, close to the surface. It’s—not as uncomfortable as one might think.

 

A little bit of Tara is better than none at all.

 

So he lets her rest against him, petting her hair, and he drifts off at some point, the exhaustion from the winter finally getting to him.

 

\--

 

**April.**

“Come on,” MK insists, tugging on his arm. “We need to go to the queensgrove.”

 

He lets himself be dragged. MK hasn’t quite gotten used to calling on the plants, and while they twine around her when they see her (her pet morning glory had ambushed her the day after Oestara), she doesn’t use them as a tool.

 

That will change.

 

“What is the queensgrove, anyway?” he demands as they officially leave Moonhaven and head into the deeper woods. They could’ve flown, but she was determined to walk.

 

“I don’t exactly know? Tara and I had a lot of conversations during the Sleep, and one thing she kept reiterating to me was that I needed to find the queensgrove. She told me how to find it and that I’d know what it was when I saw it.”

 

He knows this part of the forest, but hasn’t come across anything that seems like it could be what she thinks it is.

 

\--except that MK then takes a sharp right, passing through two trees he was sure were not there before, and then they’re standing in a clearing, ringed by trees that look like they could easily be on par with Nim’s tree for longevity. The one to MK’s left is a black oak, and down the copse of about ten trees, he spots 5 oaks, 2 hickories, a hemlock, and the newest is a birch.

 

“The queensgrove,” MK breathes. She places a hand on the first tree. “This is Queen Dione, the first queen,” she goes to the next oak. “Queen Margery.” The first hickory. “Queen Lisabelle.” Back to the oak. “Queen Hanna.” Oak again. “Queen Pyri.” Second hickory. “Queen Yanna.” The hemlock—MK appears surprised. “Queen Deathcap. She was a Boggan who was chosen as the queen,” she tells Ronin. “Her husband was the King of Rot. No one was expecting that, and that changed how the Boggans and Jinn dealt with each other forever. He thought that the Jinn had chosen her to take her away from him, and since she became Queen, he assumed she’d chosen the Jinn over him and their people,” she frowns. “She doesn’t like the other queens very much.” Back to the oak. “Queen Sirae.” Oak again. “Queen Alys.” The birch. “Tara.” She gestures at him. “Come here.” He goes, reluctantly. MK presses his hand on the tree, and he’s suddenly swamped with feelings of _Tara_.

 

He can almost see her laughing at him in a sunbeam, her skin sparkling, and her dress reflecting the light. Her scent of lilies unfolds around him, and he feels warmth over his head and shoulders, like she’s caressing him.

 

He rips his hand off of the tree and staggers back, falling into a sitting position. MK sits next to him, a careful hand on his shoulder. “Is that what you felt when you touched the other trees?” he rasps.

 

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “She told me to do it, said that you’ll never grieve unless you’re pushed to.”

 

“She would know,” Ronin says bitterly. A lump is rising in his throat. He doesn’t want to grieve in front of the person he’s supposed to guard, but he doesn’t have much of a choice.

 

Even as he holds his face in his palms, he feels the sparks of hope—Tara’s still here, and when the time comes, MK will join her. She’s not completely gone, even if she’s not with _him_ anymore.

 

“I’m sorry,” MK is saying, and he knows she is, and that’s when he realizes he’s sobbing and she’s rubbing his back. He presses a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sounds, but swirling golden specks in a sunbeam catch his attention. MK pauses, staring, as the golden specks resolve into Tara’s shade, and he can’t quite hide his gasp of horror.

 

Her shade looks down at him. “I’m sorry,” she says in a voice that echoes with the voices of the women who came before her. “I never meant to hurt you this way.”

 

“Was this intentional?” he chokes out.

 

Tara’s shade smiles sadly. “It is given to us to know our own demise on our first Samhain as queen. I knew I would not live out the ceremony, and I had to ensure the right people were in the right place at the right time.”

 

“So when we talked about children...”

 

“I hoped,” her shade admits. “Alys never told me that she knew when and how she would die. There’s always a possibility, Sirae told me. As we grew closer to the date, however, and Mandrake upped his aggression, I knew we would never get there.” A tear runs down her face and when it hits the grass, a lily blooms.  “I am sorry, Ronin.” She drifts closer, placing her hands on his cheeks and kissing him. It’s like kissing moonbeams, and she wipes away a tear before retreating back into the sunbeam. “This is my wish for you. Go, live—have as happy a life as you can. It’s what you deserve. I cannot appear to you again, but know that I am always with you.”

 

He breathes in deeply, and she adds right before she disappears, “Don’t pull a stunt like fighting thousands of Boggans on your own. I won’t be able to help next time.”

 

MK blinks. “Want to explain that one?”

 

“There was a moment in Wrathwood—after you had left—that I was nearly overwhelmed,” he murmurs. Tears are leaking from his eyes, but he’s not sobbing anymore. “I thought that perhaps I should give up. I’ve fought long and hard enough, I’ve had a fairly long life for a Leafmen, and I’d lost Tara. What more did I have to live for?” He gazes through the grove, and feels peace descend. He hadn’t realized what he’d been holding in until now. “Then my muscles rejuvenated, and I felt a new sense of purpose. Nod wasn’t going to be enough, and I needed to go. It saved my life. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it, but later, when I put it together, I figured that I felt that rush right around when the pod first opened. Tara—saving my life from beyond the veil of death,” he shakes his head.

 

“You have things to live for now,” MK says anxiously, “Right?”

 

“Of course,” he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly. “Of course I do.”

 

\--

 

They get the summons at the end of April. A crow drops off a grubby note at the opening of the citadel, and one of the new recruits brings it in, shaking. “Message for the queen,” he rasps out.

 

Everyone who needs to be at the Council meeting stares at him, before Ronin takes it. He scans it, and then looks at MK. She stands up. “Is it what we think it is?”

 

“It is,” he confirms.

 

“Ready the Leafmen,” she commands. Her voice drops a tone. “We’re going to Wrathwood.”

 

\--

 

**May.**

The Beltane ritual is put on hold for a number of reasons. It isn’t the first time it’s been put on hold, but it is the first time in the last few decades. When Baum tries to protest (the fields need to be fertilized), MK overrules him with, “I can dance among the fields any time. We finally have a chance to lay the conflict with the Boggans at rest, and we’re taking it. Is there a problem?”

 

“No, no problem,” Baum cringes.

 

“Good.”

 

MK’s dress has changed to deal with current circumstances. The bodice gains sleeves, tight to her skin but still flexible. The skirt is tighter, and there are slits up the side that showcase her light green leggings. The dress itself has taken on a harder look, like it’s no longer made out of flower petals.

 

It looks like armor, he realizes. Tara’s dress, the first few years she was queen, had a tendency to be armored as well. The forest recognizes that MK is in danger, and is doing its best to protect her.

 

MK’s attendants are staying home, and only Iris is coming. Other than that, it is MK and half of the Leafmen (they can’t take all of the Leafmen, as it would be just like Mandrake to send Boggans to attack when he knows the Leafmen will be occupied elsewhere), with Ronin to her right and Nod to her left. The boy’s in the process of training his hummingbird, but as his hummingbird is still too small to be ridden, he’s on a regulation bird.

 

“Are you ready for this?” Ronin asks her as she saddles her own mount, chirping to the bird. It’s the bird she rode to save Moonhaven all those months ago—now she will ride it to save Moonhaven again. “We can always cancel.”

 

“Queen Deathcap told me what happened,” MK says, eyes hard. “We _can_ have balance, but Mandrake has to be willing. If he’s not, there are other Boggans who can take his place.”

 

She is every inch a queen.

 

He bows his head. “Yes, my lady.”

 

They fly out, MK in the lead. At the boundaries between Wrathwood and the rest of the forest, they find Mandrake waiting for them with a host of Boggans on grackles. Ronin tenses, but MK merely flies forward to land on Mandrake’s branch. “Mandrake,” she says coolly.

 

“Mary Katherine,” he says just as coolly. “You have come to treat with us, then? No surprises?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says. They stare at each other, before Mandrake throws his head back and laughs.

 

“You Jinn—so mistrusting,” he says, but Ronin knows that that entire scene was staged—Mandrake’s eyes are cold and assessing. MK’s picked up on this, because she hasn’t relaxed. “Come, fly with me.”

 

Her bird keeps abreast of Mandrake’s as they fly into Wrathwood. Tonight’s a waxing moon, so if the negotiations go long, at least MK won’t die by nightfall.

 

Though they will know quickly whether this is a trick or not.

 

“I found something out from my predecessors that Boggans and Jinn were not always at odds, and indeed lived in relative peace,” MK comments as Ronin catches up to fly behind her and a little to the right. Mandrake killed Tara, and he’s not taking any chances with MK.

 

“Oh?” Mandrake sounds deeply skeptical.

 

“There was a Boggan Queen of the Forest a few generations back,” MK says, “Queen Deathcap. She was married to--,”

 

“King Yew,” Mandrake interrupts, loathing in his voice. “Your people chose her to cause strife among mine.”

 

“That’s not how pods work,” MK says quietly. “They choose the best person to lead the Jinn, judging from the general feel of the next hundred years. Queen Deathcap led the Jinn well during a tumultuous time.”

 

“Am I supposed to trust Jinn history now?”

 

MK wheels her bird so it’s in front of Mandrake’s. The grackle checks, snapping at the hummingbird, which chitters back. “Trust _me_ ,” she says. “I wasn’t the optimal choice either. I was human.”

 

“Little girl lost, were you?”

 

MK ignores this. “Tara chose me to be her successor. Yanna chose Deathcap because tough times were coming, and the Jinn needed a tough leader. Before Yanna chose her, the Boggans and Jinn lived in balance. King Yew thought that Yanna chose Deathcap to deliberately cause problems—she didn’t. Deathcap was who was needed.”

 

“Jinn history,” Mandrake sneers. “Deathcap was pregnant at the time of choosing. When she became Queen, she lost the baby. It was the only child she and King Yew would have had the chance to have. It has always been thus with the Jinn and the Boggans—you steal our future,” he glares at Ronin, “and set ruin to our home.”

 

MK restrains her temper. “I’m offering you a chance for a future,” she says levelly. “Are you taking it or not?”

 

That stops Mandrake dead, and he watches her with the unblinking stare of a predator as she continues, “Because if you say no, I’m walking away. This is the end. If you come at my people again, I will obliterate you. I refuse to let children go without their parents any more. You killed my predecessor. I am stronger than you, and I will kill you, allowing what remains of your people to scrabble about for a leader—which should be a good long time, since you’ve killed off any Boggans who were smart enough to challenge you.”

 

Mandrake’s mouth hangs open slightly, and Ronin wants to know how she knows that too.

 

“What is your choice?” she says again, staring down Mandrake.

 

Unsurprisingly, he takes the chance.

 

\--

 

“So that’s that,” MK says after long deliberations on one of the trees bordering Wrathwood. Changing the venue was a must. “My Leafmen will patrol the border, as will yours, but you will stay in your territory and we in ours, and breaking this will result in war.”

 

“The presence of a Leafman in Wrathwood or a Boggan in the forest means that we have an open pass to execute,” Mandrake tacks on, looking for a quill. “During the winter, we can travel openly in the forest but not attack the Leafmen.”

 

“During the spring, my people can pass through Wrathwood and be left alone,” MK mutters, grabbing her own quill.

 

“If these terms are broken in any way, that is cause for war,” Mandrake says finally, signing his name to the treaty.

 

“We are thus agreed,” MK signs her own name.

 

The scroll containing the treaty rolls up and duplicates. One goes to Iris, and the other goes to Mandrake. With that, Mandrake takes his leave, and MK yawns. They’ve been negotiating for hours.

 

“That went well,” Iris says with approval.

 

“I’m glad you think so,” MK replies, with an undercurrent of bite. “It won’t hold forever—Mandrake’s too power hungry not to break the treaty at some point—but it will hold for now.” She looks at Ronin. “Let’s go home.”

 

“You should tell your father of this,” he tells her as they mount up. “He would be proud.”

 

“Faith would be proud,” MK says, raising her eyebrows. “Dad would just want to know if he can go to Wrathwood. Did Grandma Lyse ever send you a sweater?”

 

“She did not, why?”

 

“We need to get you one,” they click to their birds and their mounts take to the air. “I’ve gotten used to seeing off-duty Leafmen in fuzzy sweaters. You need one too.”

 

“They wore them on duty during the worst of the winter,” Ronin grumbles, taking them left. “I let them because it was too cold not to.”

 

“You should have your own,” MK remarks. “I’ll see that Grandma Lyse gets your measurements.”

 

“I live for it,” he says dryly.

 

She grins. “You should.”

 

\--

 

**June.**

 

It’s the Summer Solstice once again. The truce with the Boggans has held (thus far), and that’s something worth celebrating. The dancing is wild, as always, and Nim personally supplies the gathering with his special stock. He’s on the sidelines, watching as Sabine dances with Birch, Arya and Jansen are cutting a fine figure with their not-exactly-combat-but-not-quite-dancing-either, Mari is swept up in some kind of circle with some of the other young ones, and Ladyslipper has a beau.

 

In the center of all of this, Nod and MK hold the floor. Watching them is like watching him and Tara, years and years ago, but the thought doesn’t hurt anymore. Nod’s hands are on her waist, and her arms are around his neck, with his cheek pressed to her forehead.

 

She lifts up her head and kisses him quickly, and it’s such a sudden movement no one else notices.

 

Nod returns it, just as quickly, and while the part of him that is devoted to duty frowns, the part of him that was and remains deeply in love with Tara wishes them the best.

 

Time is fleeting, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a companion piece from Tara's point of view. It's coming.


End file.
